The latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.
Methinks a father Is at the nuptial of his son a guest That best becomes the table.
This night I hold an old accustomed feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love; and you among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
Time is like a fashionable host That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arm outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer.
Unbidden guests Are often welcomest when they are gone.